⋆｡°✩ Reacting To Blonde Jay Ft. Your Bf Jay

⋆｡°✩ reacting to blonde jay ft. your bf jay

u got texts // drabbles | jongseong park x male!reader

pairing: jay x male!reader

genre: fluffy smau

notes: IM BEING SERIOUS WHEN I SAY ... BLONDE JAY ‼‼‼ got me on a chokehold THIS MAN AND HIS POWER 😭🙏

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THE WAY I WAS RATTLING MY CAGE WHEN I SAW IT 😭😭😭

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv.

⋆｡°✩ just a little bite ✦ park sunghoon

you can't just contain it can you? biting onto something so forbidden ... god fucking dammit forbid your lover has meaty guns for arms holy fuck

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park sunghoon x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, then suddenly suggestive, implied male!reader down bad for sunghoon, cuddles, intentions to fuck but we'll see, you see i wrote this just looking at sunghoon's arms, and y'all wanted it okay !!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — erm the urge to hold this man down because his arms are fucking thick what the fuck

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.2k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

The low hum of the television is a distant murmur, barely registering beneath the weight of Sunghoon’s presence beside you.

The documentary plays on—some sweeping shot of Arctic tundra, glaciers groaning under their own weight—but the screen might as well be static for all you care.

Because Sunghoon is warm.

Not just warm—radiant, like the sun itself had curled up next to you on the couch instead. He’d come home later than usual, hair still damp from the shower, smelling faintly of that body wash you always tease him for buying.

It’s ridiculous how good it smells on him. Like something expensive and forbidden, clinging to his skin long after he’s stepped out of the steam.

And now here he is, in that tank top—that specific one, the one you know he wears on purpose because it clings to every dip and curve of his shoulders, the fabric thin from too many washes, nearly translucent where it stretches over his chest. His arms are bare, his skin still flushed from the heat of his shower, and when he’d pulled you against him without a word, you hadn’t even pretended to resist.

How could you? This was your lover we’re talking about. Your warmth itself.

His arm is heavy around your own, slowly tracing down with his fingers tracing absent circles into your hip. You can feel the flex of his forearm every time he shifts, the muscle tightening unconsciously as he adjusts his grip.

Your cheek rests against his bicep, and the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, slow and syrupy.

Your body molds to his effortlessly, your head finding its usual spot against his bicep, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his thigh. Sunghoon hums, content, his arm tightening around your waist as the documentary drones on in the background.

You can hear his breathing, steady and deep, but when you glance up, his eyes are already on you—dark, amused, knowing.

He’s not really paying attention either.

Because you—you were staring.

He can feel it—the weight of your gaze, the way your fingers flex against his leg, the quiet, hitched breaths you think he doesn’t notice. Sunghoon smirks to himself, tilting his head just enough to catch the way your eyes linger on the curve of his arm, the way your teeth worry at your bottom lip.

Cute.

"You’re not even watching," Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low, rough at the edges like he’s been laughing too hard at practice. His thumb strokes over your abdomen, deliberate, and you swear he presses just a little harder when your breath catches.

You hum, pretending to consider the screen. "Polar bears," you say, deadpan. "Very educational."

A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, and you feel it where you’re tucked against him, the vibration of it sinking into your ribs.

"Liar," he accuses, but there’s no heat in it—just that familiar fondness, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I’ll melt if you keep looking at me like that."

You could deny it. You should deny it.

He expects you to deny it, to swat at him, to roll your eyes and call him cocky—but instead, you press your lips to the inner seams of his arm—just a brush, barely there.

A soft, pliant kiss upon his silken complexion.

Sunghoon goes still, his fingers twitching against your side.

Your mouth is warm, soft, and when your teeth graze over his skin—just the barest hint of pressure—his breath catches, his fingers twitching against your side.

"Ticklish?" you tease, your voice muffled against his skin.

His exhale is shaky. "Y-you know I’m not."

But you do know.

You know the way his breath stutters when you touch him like this, the way his pulse jumps under your lips when you linger just a second too long. You know the way his grip tightens when he’s trying not to pull you closer.

So you do it again—this time, letting your teeth graze lightly, just to hear the sharp inhale he tries to stifle.

Sunghoon jolts, his arm flexing instinctively under your mouth. His grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging in just enough to make your stomach swoop.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, and his eyes are dark, his lips parted, his chest rising just a little too fast.

“I felt your teeth right there …”

"Sorry," you say, not sorry at all.

Sunghoon exhales, slow, his free hand coming up to tangle in your hair, fingertips scratching lightly at your scalp. "You’re mean," he mutters, but his voice is thick, rough around the edges.

"First you ignore the documentary, then you come kiss me and bite me—"

You do it again. Harder.

This time, his breath catches, a quiet, punched-out sound escaping him.

Sunghoon flinches, his whole body jerking beneath you—muscles tensing, breath hitching—and before you can even process it, his grip slips. Just barely, just enough to send you both tumbling off the couch in a tangle of limbs, landing in a heap on the floor.

The fall knocks the air from your lungs, but you barely feel it. Not when you’re half on top of him, your chest pressed flush against his, your face burning, your pulse hammering in your throat like it’s trying to escape.

Sunghoon blinks up at you, dazed, his lips slightly parted, his dark hair mussed from the fall.

The dim glow from the TV flickers across his face, catching the curve of his cheekbone, the faint sheen on his lower lip where he’d bitten it earlier.

And then he laughs—soft and breathless, his chest shaking beneath yours, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“You—” He lifts a hand, rubbing at the faint red mark you’ve left on his bicep, his grin lazy, molten. “You marked me.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Liar,” he says again, but there’s no bite to it—just that same rough-edged fondness, the kind that makes your stomach tighten. His fingers trail up your spine, slow and deliberate, sending shivers skittering across your skin. “You’ve been eye-fucking my arms since I came out of the bathroom.”

You could argue.

Instead, you press your lips to the mark again—lingering this time, letting your tongue dart out to soothe the sting, just to feel the way his breath stutters.

And in an unprecedented fashion, you travel your lips damply onto his arms—guiding it thoroughly until your reach collarbone, his jaw, and eventually, his parted lips.

Sunghoon shudders, his fingers tightening in your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Fuck,” he whispers, his voice rougher now, darker. “Do that again.”

So you do—this time with teeth.

He gasps, his hips jerking beneath you, and suddenly his hand is on your waist, flipping you over with barely any effort, pressing you into the floor.

All he had was a dominating form on top of your waist, his chest heaving, and his pupils blown so wide his irises are nearly swallowed by black.

“You,” he breathes, leaning down until his lips brush against yours—close enough that you can taste the mint on his tongue, the sweetness of the energy drink he’d gulped down earlier.

“—are dangerous.”

You grin up at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his arms, the swell of his biceps, the way his muscles tense under your touch. “You love it.”

Sunghoon exhales, shaky, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah,” he admits, voice rough.

“I do.”

And then he kisses you—deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands gripping your chest down to your shoulders, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

His body presses you into the floor, solid and unyielding, and you pull him down closer without thinking, chasing the heat of his skin, feeling his tantalizing weight gripping you down tightly.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are red, his breathing uneven.

“More …” he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, smudging the wetness there.

“Please…”

And you don’t even argue.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — ASKFJKAJSFKLAE!!! yes im a freak for his arms bro have you seen?! him !? flexing it?! ever since i saw him being all proud of it since paradox i was like … fuck you have GOT to be kidding me WHAT THE HELL!! so yeah, here it is … me just writing how it owuld feel to just .. have this man like be with you so warm like RAAAAA and it won the poll so don't judge me YOU'RE THE SAME !?!

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ the eyes, they never lie

he was only supposed to be gathering ashwinder eggs with you, but why does he keep catching feelings for you instead?

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — sim jaeyun x reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, hogwarts legacy au, any hogwarts house reader, jake x reader, jake has been developing this silent crush with you for a long while now since you've been in school, sorta loser!jake

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — anybody deathly afraid of spiders dni! not too much but it does say acromantulas so be warned asfjhfja, also if this goes well, should i start a series? def game for hogwarts enha typa beat

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

GET THOSE ASHWINDER EGGS BEFORE SHARP FINDS OUT!!

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

The fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled with a warm tune to your ears as Jake flopped onto the sofa beside you, his parchment unfurling with a dramatic fwip. His notes were less understandable handwriting and more chaotic hieroglyphics.

A quote underlined three times, accompanied by a doodle of a serpent breathing fire onto what might’ve been Professor Sharp’s face.

You smirked. “You know, if Sharp sees that, he’ll assign you to scrub the entire owlery. With a toothbrush.”

Jake groaned, flopping his head and relaxing his back onto your side. “He’ll kill me if I don’t fix this potion. You saw the Draught of Living Death. It tried to strangle Garreth!”

“It was just being affectionate,” you said, plucking a Chocolate Frog from the table. “Like a ... say a very aggressive kneazle.”

He snorted, but his grin faded as he stared at the map of the Forbidden Forest. “I've changed my mind! I can just … I dunno, transfigure a chicken egg and hope Sharp doesn’t notice.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you aced all Magical Studies? Drenching an egg in orange paint isn't such a smart idea.”

“But ... Acromantulas!”

“Ah, so that’s why you invited me,” you said, tossing the Frog wrapper into the air and igniting it into oblivion in a whip of your wand. “Bait.”

Jake’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! I just—you’re good at… y’know. The thinking part. And the not-dying part.”

“Flatterer.”

He nudged your knee with his, his smile returning. “C’mon. It’ll be like that time we stole the pumpkin pastries from the kitchens. Except with more… legs.”

You sighed, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. Jake had always been like this—reckless, bright, and so alive it hurt to look at him sometimes.

The forest was a cathedral of shadows, its canopy blotting out the stars. Jake’s Lumos charm trembled in his hand, casting shaky light over the gnarled roots and moss-stained stones. You walked shoulder-to-shoulder, close enough to feel the heat of his arm through his robes.

“Damp spots, right?” you muttered, stepping over a creek swollen with rainwater. “Ashwinders nest near—”

A twig snapped.

Both of you froze. Jake’s wand jerked toward the sound, his breath shallow. “P-probably just a bowtruckle,” he whispered.

“Bowtruckles don’t weigh 200 pounds,” you said, slowly reaching for your wand.

The clicking started first—a wet, rhythmic sound that made your skin crawl. Then the eyes appeared: eight glowing orbs in the dark, followed by the hulking silhouette of an Acromantula.

“W-what do we do?” Jake huffed, looking at you as if waiting for your cue.

You could see the flicker of fear in his eyes, a vulnerability that Jake rarely showed. He often tried to act tough and casual, but in moments like this, it was clear how much he relied on your presence. And you were determined to protect him, no matter what.

The spiders herded you into a clearing, their legs weaving through the underbrush with predatory precision. The largest one lunged first, fangs glistening with dangerous venom.

“We’ll face them together,” you assured him, trying to instill some confidence.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

In a whim, Jake reacted on instinct.

“Incendio!”

The fireball hit its face, and the creature recoiled with a shriek. With a bit of your help, you shouted a Stunning Spell, but the spider dodged, its leg slicing the air where his head had been.

“Jake, duck!”

He dropped. With a quick flick, you casted a Cutting Curse that severed the spider’s leg, black blood splattering the area. The Acromantula collapsed, thrashing, but two more surged forward.

“Circle!” you barked, grabbing Jake’s arm and pulling him back-to-back with you.

“W-what?”

“They’re ambush predators—they’ll come at us from all sides. Watch the flanks!”

Jake nodded, his jaw set. You felt him tremble, but his voice steadied. “Stupefy!”

The spell hit a spider mid-leap, knocking it into a tree. Another skittered toward you, mandibles snapping. You pivoted, slashing your wand. “Diffindo!”

The spider’s leg flew off, but a third slammed into you from behind. Your wand skidded into the shadows.

“No—!”

“Hey!” Jake roared, hurling a rock at the Acromantula. “Argghhh ... Eat this, you big ugly balls of lint!!!”

The spider hissed, charging him. Jake scrambled backward, tripping over a stumped root.

You dove for your wand, taking charge with a quick aim. “Arresto Momentum!”

The freezing charm hit the Acromantula mid-pounce. It hung in the air, frozen, venom dripping from its fangs.

“Depulso!”

The Banishing Charm sent it crashing into its kin. You hauled Jake to his feet, his hand clammy in yours.

“You okay?”

He nodded, breathless. “Y-you just… you’re insane.”

“You striked first, dummy.” You said, grinning. "I had to cover your ass."

"Touche.." He said, panting heavily as his tongue slipped out from his mouth.

Suddenly, spider silk was whipping past your ears. The ground sloped sharply, and your leather shoe caught on a rock. As he saw you, Jake lent you his strong arm, but the unstoppable momentum dragged you both down the embankment.

With a cushioned thump, you landed hard. On top of him.

His breath hitched. Your knee was wedged between his thighs, your hands braced on either side of his head. His face was inches from yours, flushed pink and speckled with dirt. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the hitch in his breath, the way his eyes flicked to your lips.

“I uhh… I-... Uh…” he stammered. He fucking did. Of course he did. Jake sighed in his own head.

You quickly rolled off him, ignoring the racing warmth that pooled in your chest. “They’re still coming. We need to—”

In a flash, a shining hue of blue cut through the gloom. Butterflies—dozens of them—danced in the air, their wings shimmering like fractured stained glass.

"Look!" You smiled, reaching candidly as you saw more of the flying critters. "Butterflies!"

Jake stared. “Are they safe?”

“Safer than the eight-legged dinner party behind us.”

Propping up gently from the ground, you stuck out your hand to help Jake. With your touch brushing upon his otherwise dirty palm, Jake's cheek glowed with a warm flush.

“Thanks.” he acknowledged you softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

As you followed the butterflies, a comfortable silence settled between you. The darkness of the forest faded, and the gentle glow of the butterflies illuminated your path. You felt a sense of calm as you walked side by side, the tension from the encounter with the Acromantulas slowly dissipating.

“You know,” Jake said, breaking the silence, “I’ve always thought the forest was kind of magical, even with all the creepy crawlies.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, it has its charm—especially when you’re not being chased by giant spiders.”

Jake’s expression shifted, and he looked at you with a hint of seriousness. “I mean it, though. I don’t think I’d want to be here with anyone else. You always know what to do. It’s like… you've always got everything under control.”

“Keeping you alive is my life motto.” you replied, a teasing smile on your lips. But deep down, his words warmed your heart. You appreciated the way he recognized your strengths, and it made you wonder if he saw you in a different light than just a friend.

The butterflies led you uphill, away from the clicking horde and the gloomy forest that had kept you entertained.

And for sure, he did. He really did. Awkwardly so but he does.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

When you finally stumbled into open air, the view stole your breath.

Hogwarts Castle rose in the distance, its windows glittering like scattered stars. The Black Lake mirrored the sky, smooth and endless, and the valley below bloomed with wildflowers even in the dark. It was like standing inside a painting.

“It's already nighttime...” You stretched your limbs as you stood up, watching over all the marvels you could find with your naked eye. “The stars are really out tonight.”

Jake slumped against a boulder, clutching his side. “Merlin’s pants… I think I swallowed a spider.”

“Only one?” You sat beside him, close enough that your shoulders grazed at that moment.

He laughed weakly. The sound faded as he turned to you, his gaze lingering.

When was it that he was truly enamored by the sight of you? When you entered Hogwarts so late in your years that you had caught almost everyone's attention? When you won the Quidditch match and had him cheering for you no matter what? Or when you successfully defended the castle from the invasion of Goblins not long ago?

When was it that he started looking fondly at you, dreaming of seeing your face without ever feeling weird about it?

Seeing your lashes and how they flowed and complimented the shape of your eyes, Jake could never get used to how ethereal you looked when he saw you first thing in the morning.

The bridge and tip of your nose, inches finer and sharper every time he took an almost sinful gaze upon your natural beauty. It was always breathtaking, as you could imagine.

And even glancing down at your lips, and how red they were, Jake could never refuse to imagine his own lips caressing yours in an intimate way. It was just as if he wanted to melt on top of you right then and there.

He wanted to feel your warmth so badly, but who was he for you, for him to have the luxury of having those thoughts of you?

And who's to say you didn't notice it too? He surely wasn't slick with it, as much as he wanted to be.

You’d caught him staring before—in the library, during Quidditch matches, that time you’d rolled up your sleeves in Potions, and even how he stopped breathing at the sight of you being so close to him earlier in the Forbidden Forest—but never like this. Never so quiet.

The silence stretched. Jake’s eyes never really strayed away from your lips.

“What?” you said.

He jerked back. “Nothing! I—I wasn’t—I mean, your face is just… really…” He flailed, gesturing vaguely. “Symmetrical?”

You raised an eyebrow, looking straight into his eyes. Jake could feel your judgment, but also your inquisitiveness.

Sometimes, you were just too good at guessing what he thought. It was as if his body was made of glass, see-through and transparent in front of you.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, covering his face. “I’m… concussed.”

“You’re not concussed, Jake."

“I could be.”

You smirked, leaning back on your hands.

As you grew quiet, you continued to admire the place that surrounded you. The valley sprawled beneath you, beautiful and strange. Hogwarts felt like a dream you couldn't ever imagine living in.

Jake’s voice softened. “Thanks. For saving my arse back there.”

“Anytime.”

“Even if I’m… y’know.” He gestured to himself. “A mess.”

You glanced at him. His hair was full of leaves, his robes torn, but his smile—small and hopeful—made your chest tighten.

With the smallest step between you and Jake, you took care of the leaves stuck on his hair and ruffled it then. With yet more warmth than ever, Jake felt a rush of dopamine crawling up his spine.

“Especially then,” you said with a simple smile.

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When you finally crept back into the castle, Filch’s shouts echoing somewhere distant, Jake nudged you with his elbow.

“Same time next week?”

“Only if you bring better snacks.”

He grinned, bright as the sunrise. “Deal.”

A smile crept across your face as you thought of going out again.

Maybe, you'll let this play a bit longer. After all, it is pure fun to see Jake unravel minute by minute.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — aahhhh!! i really wanted to write enha in hogwarts for so long and now iget to actually write them! hopefully yall like ittttt~

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘